…and I don’t know why. Usually they start fairly benignly. Like this fire escape. And then it all starts to go weird. Stairs go missing. Even when I want to go down, I go up. And up some more. The distance between the stairs changes. Or they sag and break.
In case you haven’t guessed, my climbing dreams are not happy dreams.
They might explain why a tree climber (me) become an afraid-of-heights person (me again). I have no other explanation for the fear of heights. No trauma outside the nightmares. But I’m open to random, non-scientific theories. :-)
Pauline Baird Jones
Perilously romantic fiction for armchair adventurers
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